Sojourner Part 1: Day in the life
by Lisande Tsang
Summary: NPCs such as Robeira, death, emoness, and some training thrown into it too. Inspired by Eddie.
1. Part 1: Day in the life

Wizet owns respective names and concepts. Miryssiara is owned by the amazing girl who invented her. Inspired by events in real life, Eddie 3 much as I love you, utter serendipity, Roald Dahl, L. M. Montgomery and too many emo stories ;).

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**Sojourner in an ancient land**  
by Lisande

Part 1  
DAY IN THE LIFE

"A mage is versatile, …" she glanced down quickly at the girl's name tag, "…Miryssiara. It is tempting to lose focus, diversify." Robeira inclined her head ever so slightly, as she had done for so many years, and fixed the younger girl with her dark eyes.

The newly-initiated priestess blinked, intrigued, and opened her mouth as if to speak. But Robeira had timed it so that she spoke first by milliseconds, and whispered the rest of the speech.

"The essence of your magehood is your element. When you remember where your heart lies, there you will find success beyond your wildest dreams. Therein lies your station, calling, and destiny." She allowed the faintest of smiles – a skill that came with practice – touch her expression.

The priestess stared back, awestruck.

Robeira waited for the prescribed two and a half seconds, and then withdrew slowly into the shadows of her instructor's cloak and quietly arranged her arms within its folds, once again the impermeable, impenetrable instructor of the third advance.

The main speech was over. Again. And according to the textbook that she now knew off by heart, all she needed to do was wait, hovering in the air, until the initiate left either in mystified frustration or thrill with his or her newfound freedom.

More wizards came, and left as mages, each their own in their private experience. The day wore on. And it seemed to Robeira that there was no end.

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	2. Part 2: Behind the cloak

_Sojourner in an ancient land_ by Lisande

Part 2  
BEHIND THE CLOAK

When the house was quiet, and there was no one else but herself and the other three instructors, Robeira collapsed on the ground. Arec ran to her, as if he had been waiting for her to do so all day, although he did not touch her.

"Robie," he began, using the nickname no one used anymore.

"No," she cut him off, "I'm fine." She looked up at him, eyes innocently wide. _Everything's fine._ He looked at her for a moment, his eyes burning with questions, but he said nothing. There was a pause, and after awhile he went back to whetting his dagger.

As Robeira stared at the ceiling from her new vantage point, images of all the mages she had ever advanced floated into her mind. She imagined what they were doing, training, training. Trying to level. Trying to earn money. Unbidden, the face of that first priestess today floated into consciousness.

_How much like her I was._ Innocent, sincere, so full of promise. As if she knew the world could have opened up its secrets and satisfied her beyond all desire, if she had the key; if she worked hard enough, if she was _good_ enough.

_And another lamb to the slaughter,_ she thought, unbearably depressed. She tried to fling the image of the young priestess away in desperation, tried not to remember. _All they want is power, and they don't even know what it's for. And I am giving it to them, every day. They don't even know why…_ The others didn't understand. Not even Arec. Maybe they still believed in themselves.

Once, Robeira had been a new initiate herself. She had been an ice mage firstly, and then mastered both other classes too, always loving cold Ossyria. How magical life had seemed, how full of splendour and magnificence.

Once, she had been so sure that the world was thrilling, marvellous, _full_; so full she had thought she would burst with revelation. Every new experience seemed filled with challenges, every new skill a springboard to ever more ethereal heights. She remembered how once she had thought there was no evil, only misunderstood good. Or that everything was beautiful. Or that power was only one of many paths to ecstasy and joy.

And her hopes had never been dashed, either, or her heart ever broken: only worn away, bit by bit. Even with Arec, the passion had faded, until that became meaningless too. All the childlike dreams were drained, little by little, until she had realised finally that the world was colourless, and always had been.

Robeira emerged from her reverie immeasurably more depressed than before. Picking herself up from the floor, she discovered the others had all gone to sleep in their beds, with the exception of Arec, who was snoring in front of the fire, curled up around his dagger as usual.

She had always thought it was cute, although they never talked of cuteness anymore. The dagger, the flash of its shiny blade. How shiny it was. She had watched him wield it many times before, and she had decided long ago it was the sharpest thing she had ever seen. Why, it was even freshly whetted…

_I won't disturb him._

With all the subtlety that befitted a seasoned archmage, Robeira eased the dagger away from him with a type of telekinesis. A long time ago, she had known the geography of his arms off by heart. When it was free, it glided smoothly through the air into her waiting hand.

_Not…here. I know where._

Robeira wrapped her cloak more tightly around her, and opened the front door. The snowstorm had not started yet, and perhaps she could get to the Holy Stone before it did. She glanced back at the sleeping Arec.

"Goodbye," she whispered, quietly enough that he would not wake up. "I really did love you." With a shaky breath, she stepped into the snow, and closed behind her, for the last time, the door of the mansion of the third advance.

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	3. Part 3: The Holy Stone

_Sojourner in an ancient land_ by Lisande

Part 3  
THE HOLY STONE

When Robeira stood, icy cold, before the great marble obelisk, she remembered the last time she had stood there. She never thought she would stand there again. Twice was more than most people cared to, for its power was formidable, and best avoided if you cared for your sanity. The first time was her own third job advance, and the second had been her initiation, years later, to instructorhood.

She could feel the Stone calling to her in words she did not understand. Nevertheless convinced, Robeira took out Arec's dagger. She traced her name, inscribed in tiny letters on its hilt. Her fingers, semi-paralysed with cold, moved upward, caressing the edge of the blade.

Her forefinger came away, blood blooming from the incision as if by magic. She stopped, as if in a dream, to look at it wonderingly. Perhaps that was beautiful too.

"Robie?"

She did not hear Arec's voice in a place she had never heard it before, as it called to her through the cold air. The mists surrounding the Holy Stone deepened, and she lifted the dagger.

"Robie!"

She turned, annoyed that her moment had been disturbed. Who was calling her? Arec's face appeared, first dim in the shadows, and then pale when he stepped into the moonlight.

The mists parted, and the shock of recognition and realisation of what she was about to do struck them both. The blood, still fresh from her finger, pooled on the snow. There was utter silence as they stared at each other across the snow for what seemed an eternity frozen in time.

Arec spoke at last. "I won't ask, and I'm not going to stop you."

The silence hung between them again. Struggling to think, Robeira could only remember how he had always given her distance, if she wanted it. He had never forced anything on her.

Robeira's tongue suddenly found itself. For the second time that night she collapsed to the ground. The dagger clattered to the snow-powdered ground.

"You found me," she said brokenly.

He embraced her.

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	4. Part 4: Redemption and Robeira

_Sojourner in an ancient land_ by Lisande

Part 4  
REDEMPTION AND ROBEIRA

He kissed her again and again in the coldness of the open cliff, and her breath came in puffs of white, warm and fast.

"No," she murmured, and stopped him, "they will be looking for you. Arec our famous job instructor is not supposed to leave the village." She sat up, and looked away, suddenly depressed. "Any more than is Robeira."

"I know," he told her, "but you are not that Robeira tonight." He touched her hair, very gently, as if he had never touched it before. They were lying on the snow, and she caught him glance down to the dagger that lay between them, before he looked at her again. "Maybe not existing is just as meaningless as existing," he said quietly, searching her eyes.

She looked at him, then, and her resolve softened. She allowed him to pick up the dagger, and watched as he threw it away in a puff of snow. There was a question in her eyes, and she leaned down, towards him again, until her pale hair became a curtain, framing his face.

"Just to make it bearable," he suggested, with a half-smile.

The world seemed to pause in thought as she considered this. The way his hair lay, so familiarly, almost antiquely. That scar, across his right cheek. And his eyes, as brightly grey as they had been since the first time she had stared into them, so many years ago, reflecting the moon.

"I suppose," she agreed, then, and kissed him lingeringly.

In the moonlight, her hair fell through his fingers like spun gold, and her skin was warm to his touch. The frozen snow did not seem cold beneath them, and above them hung the wild, wild moon in a sky that had forgotten the dawn.

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EPILOGUE

"…Therein lies your station, calling, and destiny," Robeira finished. Neither she nor Arec had said anything, but she could feel the other instructors watching her.

She was about to withdraw into her cloak as usual, but on impulse, she spoke again. "Two more things."

The mage stared back, still in awe, and Tylus and Rene actually gasped. Arec glanced up at her, once. She ignored them, and addressed the new initiate.

"Good luck. And don't forget who you are."

And this time, Robeira smiled.

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---fin


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